Tag: pixar

The new Blu-ray Disc (BD) version of Up — released on the same day as the BD of director Pete Docter’s debut effort, Monsters, Inc. — is a revelation in at least one regard: it demonstrates that 2D is better.

Because Pixar is known for so reliably hitting balls out of the park, every time, it’s hard to think of what possible angle to take in a review as its latest slugger, Up, trots merrily around the bases of the multiplex, dances its way toward the hefty box-office returns that await at home plate, and basks in the warm glow of the adoration of millions of fans. For three years now, there have been stories in the financial press alleging that Pixar’s latest is due to underperform because a) nobody wants to see a silent movie about a lonely robot; b) children don’t want to play with plush rats; or c) nobody loves old people and fat kids. That’s one reason why it’s such good sport to watch the movies rake in the dough year after year.

Yes, the first half of WALL•E is as good as everyone says it is. It’s essentially a silent comedy, built out of scrap metal, consumer cast-offs, and a forbidding end-of-the-world landscape — New York City as a far-future archeological dig. Our hero is a plucky bucket of bolts who sees through binocular eyes and burbles like R2D2 as he makes orderly piles out of the refuse left by the erstwhile Earthlings who fled their ruined planet hundreds of years before for the machine-assisted comforts of a distant space station. Their absence is what makes WALL•E’s Manhattan so charming — the irony is that these miserable, junk-strewn environs are attractive to the old-school WALL•E, who busies himself by collecting and categorizing — a Rubik’s Cube here, a light bulb there — the detritus of civilization. It’s not until EVE, a sleek, iPod-styled girl robot shows up on the scene that WALL•E becomes aware of his own loneliness.

God bless Pixar for doing it the hard way. There’s a new wave of banal, aggressively condescending talking-animal cartoons being shoveled out of the Hollywood CG-image factories these days, but Ratatouille is everything those films aren’t and it’s nothing that kids raised on lowest-common-denominator cartoon pablum expect. The setting is Paris. The subject is food — good food, in fact, and also the difference between good food and bad. And dramatizing that very unexpected story of the gulf between adequacy and excellence, and our capacity as human beings to recognize and be moved by sublime endeavor, may be the most difficult narrative trick of all.

Can we blame yearly weather patterns for the cataclysmic brainstorms that lead competing Hollywood studios to spend megabucks chasing the same ideas at the same time? In 1997 we had dueling volcanos courtesy of Volcano and Dante’s Peak. Earlier this year, we had not one but two end-of-the-world meteor movies, and it’s only Universal’s skittishness in torpedoing Peter Jackson’s pet King Kong project (but Casey Silver lost his job anyway, didn’t he?) that kept us from having two monster movie remakes over the summer (Mighty Joe Young, delayed to Christmastime, would have made three). And even as I write these words, competing Joan of Arc projects (one starring Mira Sorvino, the other Milla Jovovich!) are being rushed to the screen for 1999.

So you have to wonder why, after so many years, it has only now occurred to the suits in Hollywood that what the world needs now is a really good cartoon bug movie. Or, rather, two of them. Granted, one of the films is from Disney, into whose purview such things as cartoon bug movies would generally fall. And the other, the previously released Antz, is from upstart fantasy factory Dreamworks SKG. That Dreamworks made a genuinely good movie out of the concept is to their great credit. That they cast Woody Allen in the lead voice role and made a film precariously geared toward adults as well as kids simply indicated that they have a ways to go before they become as savvy about movie audiences as The Mouse.

Not that I’m stumping for Disney as the be-all and end-all of family entertainment. In fact, I haven’t sampled an animated Disney release since Aladdin, and feel no loss for having skipped them. Not having children in the house, this is my privilege. But what’s different about A Bug’s Life — and its predecessor, the absolutely brilliant Toy Story — is that it’s not a Disney movie, not really. True, it bears that classic Disney imprimatur, and it benefits greatly from the Mouse’s vast worldwide marketing and distribution syndicate. But if you look at the furious rate of invention, the thoroughly contemporary sensibility, and the sheer intoxicated cinephilia of Toy Story and now A Bug’s Life, you can see the spark that’s missing from the lush, safe environment of those Disney song-and-dance sensations.

That’s not to belittle the achievement of the Disney animators, although I admit I’m not a big fan of their contemporary work. But I do mean to celebrate the exuberance of the folks at Pixar animation studios, who have managed to imbue computer-generated imagery with more life than a dozen flat Hollywood live action features. Pixar made a name for itself with a series of progressively more complex computer-animated short films that were, as much as anything, demo reels for the new technology. With Toy Story, released through Disney in 1995, Pixar conceived a hip fable for contemporary kids of all ages. The humor in Toy Story came out of its toy characters, which were cleverly developed from their toy characteristics — Buzz Lightyear is deluded into thinking he’s really a spaceman, Sheriff Woody is as uneasy about the new technology as Kirk Douglas in Lonely Are the Brave, Mr. Potatohead is a discombobulated mess both mentally and physically.

The insectoid ensemble that makes up A Bug’s Life is similarly dysfunctional: an insecure Francis the ladybug (Denis Leary) is in denial of his feminine side; the villain Hopper (Kevin Spacey) is a savvy megalomaniac who belittles the ants that so outnumber the grasshoppers, keeping them down; and little ant Flik (Dave Foley) is a well-meaning goof who suddenly finds himself scrambling to save the entire colony.

The storyline, such as it is, is cribbed from Seven Samurai and then loosened up considerably. In a nutshell, Flik takes a journey into the great unknown world outside of “Ant Island” in hopes of rounding up a posse of mercenary warrior insects to save his ant village from the marauding grasshoppers. In a typical mistaken-identity mix-up, Flik actually recruits a troupe of circus performers, who think they’re being hired to put on a show for the ants.

A Bug’s Life is looser and more chaotic than Toy Story, particularly during its first half, which lopes along merrily in whichever direction the film’s peculiar muse moves it. Don’t get me wrong, the jokes are there — for all the focus it lacks, this is still a very funny movie. The film’s kitchen-sink narrative is matched by its visual style, which eschews the HDTV-ready framing of Toy Story for a broad widescreen image. The Cinemascope aspect ratio adds an epic dimension to the story, which is underlined by Randy Newman’s wittily adventurous score. On the other hand, the frame is jammed so full of details, particularly in a breathless climax that takes place in a pounding rainstorm, that it can be exceedingly hard to take it all in. If I were to see it again, I might sit even farther away from the screen with that in mind.

Critics have remarked on the similarities between A Bug’s Life and Antz, but honestly, I can’t see how the two films could depart much more widely from one another, given that both are computer-generated animations, ostensibly aimed at children, featuring an ant as the protagonist. Yes, storywise, there are perhaps inevitable parallels. But in terms of attitude, while Antz squandered a little too much time on showy exposition and philosophizing, A Bug’s Life seeks out the endless possibilities of its microcosmos, casting grasshoppers, a ladybug, a caterpillar, a walking stick, and a black widow, among others, in prominent roles. And the grasshoppers are depicted so fearsomely, marching toward the “camera” out of the mist, or leering violently in the faces of the cowed ants, that their scenes — along with a breathtaking bird attack — play as a faster, less grueling version of Jurassic Park. What’s more, and probably owing to Pixar’s track record with such stuff, the character animation in this one doesn’t look nearly as studied and labored as in Antz. It just looks natural. Visually, this is one marvelous film.

While I think A Bug’s Life is almost a must-see for its singular imagery alone, I can’t pretend it’s a perfect movie, or even a near-perfect one. It has its slow spots, largely underdeveloped characters (with a bunch of twee ant children traipsing through key scenes to remind us, I guess, that this is a Disney movie after all), and a storyline that’s just a bit too familiar for maximum surprise and delight. The voice performances, unfortunately, are mostly undistinguished, (Spacey’s menacing grasshopper is an exception). In its best scenes, however — and that includes the end credits, so stay seated — it’s both exciting and hysterically funny. Sometimes, that’s all you need.